


One Day in Rio

by starserendipity



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 17:54:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1437361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starserendipity/pseuds/starserendipity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an exhausted Pete and Myka are called to Rio, chaos ensues.  Will they be able to complete their mission?</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Day in Rio

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tulipsandsake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tulipsandsake/gifts).



> Here you are! Enjoy!

“Really? Rio?”

Myka Bering, Secret Service Agent and Agent of the Warehouse, grown woman and Adult (with a capital A), was doing her very best not to pout. 

She was having limited success. 

“Why Artie? Make Claudia and Jinx go.” 

She’d had it up to here with the Warehouse and all its artifact-y shenanigans this week. After being nearly swallowed by a whale in Wales, shang-hai’d by pirates in Shang Hai and encountering an extremely fast worm in Worms, she was done. 

She wanted nothing more than to curl up in her room with a cup of tea and a favorite novel (or five) for the next two days, at which point she would hopefully emerge from her cocoon a slightly more functional human being than she was at that particular moment. 

“I’m sorry Myka.” It was 3 am and Artie looked just as tired as she felt, his hair sticking up more so than usual and his feet clad in the fuzzy slippers. “The ping is a high priority target and it’s lighting up Rio right now. I can’t send Claudia and Steve, I just sent them to Nairobi.” He sighed. “When it rains, it pours.” 

From his desk, Pete covered his massive yawn with one arm. “You know, we can’t keep running at this rate Artie. We need to refuel or something.” He started to yawn again. 

Artie ran his hand through his hair. “I know. After this, maybe we’ll catch a break.” 

“Fine.” Myka growled, deeply annoyed. “What are we looking for.”

“La Mascara de Espelhos” Artie read off the computer. 

“Let’s go Pete.” Myka said, crossing the room towards the door and dragging her erstwhile compatriot along with her. They left and Artie could still hear their voices echoing down the hall, even as the door slid shut.

“Wait, what? What the heck’s a mascara? 

****

Stepping off the plane in Rio, Myka was immediately assaulted by the sheer volume of color that exploded from every direction, dazzling under the brilliant sunshine. She pulled her aviators out of her carry on and slid them firmly onto her nose. 

Pete trailed behind her, puzzling over a map of the city. “La mascara de espelling?” His Portuguese was less than stellar. 

“La Mascara de Espelhos.” Myka sighed. “It means Mask of Mirrors.” She lowered her shades and glared at Pete. “Do you read any of the material for these missions? Like, ever?” 

“Well excuse me crabby pants. I thought you could, you know, help me out? Half the stuff I found online was in Portuguese, which you know I don’t read.” 

Myka grudgingly admitted he had a point. “I’m sorry Pete, I’m just so tired. And now we’re here in Rio, and all I want to do is sleep until I don’t feel so jetlagged anymore.”

“I know Mykes. Don’t worry, we’ll wrap this up as fast as possible and you can go huddle in your room for a week, scout’s honor.” Pete’s grin was infectious. 

They made their way through the airport as Myka talked, detailing the mission and the particulars of the artifact they were looking for. 

“So the Mask lets you look like whoever you want? Sweet!” Pete said, but then he thought better of it. “What’s the downside?”

“If you keep it on too long, you stay that way. Until, well you know.” Myka trailed off. 

“You die.” Pete finished. “Got it.”

They stepped out onto the bustling sidewalk, where they were immediately almost run over by a mob of people, all dressed in brightly colored costumes and singing. 

“What’s with the parade?” Pete asked, looking around in bewilderment.

“Oh no.” Myka said, looking around. “What’s the date?” 

Pete told her and she raised her eyebrows. “Pete, its Carnival! This is going to be one of the most crowded place on Earth for the next four days!”

Pete barely had time to process this before another wave of people streamed past them, pulling them into the mob.

“Pete!” Myka shouted, attempting to reach him in the crowd. 

“Myka!” Pete reached but missed and the crowd swept him away.

Just great, Myka thought. What a way to start the mission. She went with the crowd, unable to fight her way out, her bag tightly clutched to her chest. It finally dispersed into a large park, where Myka was able to make her escape and get her bearings, so to speak. 

She found a sign that declared the park to be Parque de Campo de Santana. Okay that was a start. She dug through her bag and located her Farnsworth. Dialing Pete, she tapped her foot impatiently. How far could he have gotten?

There was no answer. 

****  
Pete was jostled along with the crowd of revelers, their song and dance preventing him from escaping the mob. 

Someone bumped into him from behind, almost knocking him over. As he went down, an arm shot out and caught him easily, pulling him back to his feet. 

“Thanks!” Pete said brightly. 

“It is no problema, senhor.” The young man had bright inquisitive eyes. “Ve-lo.” Just as quickly as he’d met Pete’s gaze, the teenager turned and melted back into the crowd. 

Pete moved along with the flow, relieved when the mass of people broke up, allowing him to duck into a side alley. He reached into his jacket to find his Farnsworth, intent on calling Myka, and gasped when he came up short. 

“No, no no!” He rummaged through his pockets, and began to search his bag. “No!”

He had no cell phone, no Farnsworth and no Myka, alone in the middle of Rio. 

You’ve really done it this time Lattimer, Pete thought, running his hands through his hair, already sweating in the Rio afternoon sun. Mykes is probably going to kill you.  
****  
Myka hung up her Farnsworth with a frown. After touching base with Artie and letting him know that Pete had gotten lost, she was no further on locating Pete or the artifact. 

She’d been torn on whether to continue her search for one or the other, until Artie had pointed out that Pete would surely still be looking for the artifact, and that the best way to find him would be to find the mask. 

Artie had relayed updated intel on the ping; half an hour ago it had been remarkably close to the airport, but now it was headed south, toward Copacabana. “Put on some sunscreen.” Artie had growled before snapping his Farnsworth shut. 

Myka smiled and started walking, hoping she could hail a cab on the way. 

****  
Three hours later found her at a bar on the beach, and no artifact or Pete in sight. She leaned up against the wall, sipping at her mai tai, wondering why anyone would want to drink one of these in the first place. It was far too sour. 

In an effort to blend in with the tourists, she’d been forced to change, swapping out her sensible blouse and pant combo for something a little more tropical. Her bright red tank top and cut off jean shorts were far too revealing for her usual attire, but seemed practically modest compared to the nearly naked twenty something dancing in the open air pavilion as the sun began to go down. 

“Hey pretty lady.” A man stumbled up next to her, slurring his words, his accent think and German. He was broad, Myka noted clinically, but short. The handlebar mustache completed her assessment that this man had zero chance of even gaining her name. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“No.” She said coldly, turning away. 

“Come on, don’t be like that.” He persisted, putting a hand on her shoulder. 

Myka reacted swinging, executing a maneuver that should have landed her right hook on his jaw and a sweep with her foot that should have dumped the man on the floor. 

Instead the man jumped back, with remarkable alacrity, his eyes glittering with amusement. “Now, now.” He tsked, his voice starting to become higher in pitch. “Is that anyway to thank me for doing your job?”

He reached behind his head and gave an odd tug to the back of his neck. Like rainwater sliding off a window, the image of the man faded, leaving behind a slender, dark haired brunette woman with a sly smile and a hell of a lot of explaining to do. 

Myka dropped her mai tai. 

“Helena.” She gasped. She looked stunning, as ever, dressed in the local evening wear of choice, a black bikini top and a sarong around her waist, leaving nothing to the imagination. 

“Hello darling.” Helena smirked. “Shall we take this somewhere more private?”

***  
Outside on the beach, the sun was setting in a spectacular display, while the sounds of Carnival rang on from the city behind them. 

Myka was beside herself. “What are you doing here? Where have you been? What’s—“ Helena silenced her with a finger to her lips. 

“Oh Myka, I have missed you.” She smiled at her fondly. “Oh, and here, I nearly forgot.” She reached up and pulled something off her head that only shimmered into view once she’d removed it. It was a mask, made entirely out of silvered glass, gleaming in the light of the setting sun. 

“It was you?” Myka sputtered, indignant.  
“Don’t be silly. I caught the miscreant using it to rob a bank, or some nonsense like that. Deposited him with the local authorities, enjoyed a few of these fine beverages and waited on you and Agent Lattimer’s arrival.” Helena had the gall to look innocent, waving away what must have been several days worth of work. 

“What have you done with Pete?” Myka put her hands on her hips, pursing her lips, unable to admit she was impressed. 

“Agent Lattimer is perfectly fine, I daresay better than fine. He will make some lovely friends and will be much more relaxed by the time you are reunited.”

“Helena.”

She smirked. “In about twenty minutes he’s going to be picked up by the members of one of the samba schools, whose acquaintance I was able to make. Don’t worry.” 

Myka smiled back. “So this is a set up?” 

“Nothing so sinister. Let us simply say, I saw the opportunity, and I took it.” Helena was obviously pleased with herself, and Myka simply couldn’t stand it. She leaned in closer; trying to think of something she could say that would wipe that smug look off Helena’s face.

Myka thought she’d never seen anything more beautiful in her entire life. 

She gave up on trying to be clever and pulled Helena close, snagging her around the waist, bringing their foreheads together. Helena’s eyes widened and Myka paused, uncertain. 

“Is this okay?” She murmured, their lips nearly touching. 

Helena smiled. “Completely.”

They kissed as the sun dipped below the horizon and fireworks lit up the sky around them. 

***

The next morning, Myka sat up in bed, woken by the sunlight streaming in through the huge windows. She was unfortunately alone. 

She sighed and sank back into the pillows, more relaxed than she’d felt in weeks. She flopped a hand over where Helena had slept, and frowned when she hit something metal. Sitting up, she found a Farnsworth, a huge hibiscus flower and a note. 

She admired the flower for a moment, then opened the letter. 

Myka, 

Duty calls. 

Enjoy the suite; your flight to America leaves at 9.

Know that no matter what, I will always find you. 

HGW

Postscript: Do tell Agent Lattimer to keep a better eye on his belongings. You’ll find him at the airport when you leave. 

Myka didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as she saw what else Helena had left on her side of the bed: books. Glorious books, volumes Myka had never read and a few she’d never heard of. 

How did she know her so well? Myka mused as she cracked open the spine on the first one, her hurt at Helena’s departure somewhat assuaged by her thoughtful gift. 

She paused, looking around the room once more, noticing the mask gleaming on the desk where they’d carelessly tossed last night. She knew she needed to get in touch with Artie, and she would. Later. 

Right now she was going to curl up in her king sized bed and read, enjoying the well earned respite that every hard working Agent so richly deserves.


End file.
